


Work Song

by MissyRobot



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Drug Use, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Hozier, Masturbation, Mental Health Issues, Obsession, Oral Sex, Reader Insert, Smoking, Vaginal Sex, lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-13 02:11:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7958299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissyRobot/pseuds/MissyRobot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A girl moves in upstairs.<br/>Elliot becomes infatuated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. My Baby

**Author's Note:**

> Baby's first fanfiction. :) Hope you like.

_I can't stop thinking about her. From the minute I laid eyes on her, that face became burnt into my memory like an after image on a monitor. Resting at the back of my skull._

His hands fiddled through his hair as he felt a small bead of sweat drip down his temple. Laying on his back he could only see his ceiling. He imagined he could see through it. Up into her apartment. He could hear her walking through her kitchen, into her bedroom, sitting on the bed. Taking off her shoes.

_I want to take off her shoes…_

His heart raced at the thought of her. Splayed out on her bed, room stacked in boxes, her lovely ______ hair strewn about the undone mattress as she glowed from the dampness of work in the sunset. That's how he pictured it at least. He had seen her for the first time this morning. She was an angel and her chariot was a U Haul. He watched her from his window in awe as she got out of the truck, pulling her hair into a loose ponytail as she trudged around the back to start getting her things out. No one was helping her. But she looked like she was used to that.

Elliot had no idea why he was so taken with her, but immediately his urge to talk to her was overwhelming.

_This doesn't happen,_

He gulped, recalling the way he had been late for work because he couldn't will himself to go down the stairs and risk running into her.

_Beautiful girls don't move in upstairs and fall in love with you._

Wait, did he even want that? He must have, on some primal subconscious level, since he thought it. Of course, the fact that he wanted to talk to her so badly made him even more afraid to do so. What would he even say to her anyway?

**"Hey, I'm Elliot, I love listening to your walking."**

He tried out loud. Totally weird.

_What do normal people do when they want to know someone?_

He thought about it long and hard. A neighborly thing to do would be to bring some kind of house warming gift over. _Usually food_ , he thought. But he didn't want to be regularly friendly. He wanted her to remember him. To think about him too. To want him like he wanted her.

But how do you do that?

Rolling over in his bed, he listened to her intently as she laid down, putting on a song he didn't know. He closed his eyes and pictured her peaceful face. Her soft skin, that looked warm and smooth with a slight flush. Her big _____ eyes, soft pink lips that he wanted to bite. Elliot shook the thought from his mind. He couldn't like her if he didn't know anything about her…

_I have to know about her._

Without even thinking he stood and strode over to his laptop, practically flinging it open and searching quickly for her WI FI. If he could get into that he could find her IP address and maybe her name. Then everything else.

Oh, god, he didn't even know her name.

Elliots eyes scanned the screen madly, and it turned out to be even easier than he thought. There was only one new WI FI name on the usual list of people living in his building. It was titled what he assumed was her last name.

 **"_____..."** He tested the name on his lips quietly. He pulled up Facebook, scrolling frantically through a list of people by the same name. He knew as soon as he saw a photo of her he would know, and, upon thinking this, he abruptly stopped scrolling, and dragged his mouse up the screen. There. ______ ______.

First name and middle name?

Last and first?

His heart ached. He wanted to know, needed to know. Her music interests included mostly classic and modern rock. A little bit of folk. She has a cat. She changes her hair color a lot, but always goes back to her natural color. She likes horror movies. He peeked at her birth year. Nineteen years old.

_So young._

His hands shook, and he could hear his own breath heaving through his nose as his heartbeat picked up in his ears. She's single. He tracks her email from her Facebook next. It's her full name with various numbers. Her first name is _____.

His breath quickens again.

From there he finds her blog, but not much else. He scans most of it until the late hours of the night anyway. Trying to understand her. He finds her art, mostly drawings of women, and he finds her sadness that she tucks away where no one she knows in person can see it. It makes him feel dirty to look at this, especially when he hears her open her window and crawl onto the fire escape. She smokes. His heart beats faster. People are lonely all the time. He witnesses other's loneliness all the time. Maybe it was just because she was a beautiful girl. But for some reason, Elliot craved her more than anything.

_This is crazy, I'm crazy._

He told himself,

_She's going to find out I did this and she's going to hate me for it. This is creepy. I'm being really creepy._

Still he clicked around looking for more. He found old webcam recordings, and her personal photos. Suddenly, he glimpsed her half nude form in her gallery. Just as he closed the tab he heard something slam upstairs. Without thinking, he rushed to the fire escape and opened his window. Looking up, he saw her struggling with her window, a joint hanging from her lips.

Elliot stared at her for a moment, then frantically patted his hoodie and jeans pockets for his pack of smokes. Not finding them, he rushed into his apartment, snatching them up from the counter as a million things ran through his mind, eyes wide.

_What the fuck do I say to her? I liked that song you were listening to? No that's weird. She'll know I was eavesdropping. Did you just move in? Obvious. I can't just say hey. God, I don't know what to do._

Before he knew it he was out his window with a cigarette in his hand and his eyes locked with hers. She looked gorgeous. She was wearing tight blue jeans and a red turtleneck. Her hair fell around her shoulders and her makeup was dark. An old worn hoodie hung on her frame, and a shitty spliff was clutched between her manicured fingers. Rings on both third fingers. Was she married before? A promise ring?

Elliot hadn't noticed the long silence that passed between them, and it seemed like she didn't either. Because she just stared back, taking a drag. He swallowed, and ascended the stairs up to her small balcony. He stayed a few steps down to give her space. Still struggling for words, his voice was caught in his throat.

_This is happening, isn't it? I've never done this. I was spying on her all day and now I'm just walking up to her without saying a word. She seems upset. Eyes are a little red, but that might be the pot. Looks like she doesn't sleep much either._

It was her that broke the silence.

"Oh, hi. I hope… you don't mind that I'm smoking this out here."

He stared at her for a minute, and just answered

**"No."**

Her resting face melted into a relieved smile. His gut churned with what someone would call butterflies, his eyes darting all over her face lit up by the moon and the street lamps. "Thank goodness," she breathed, placing a hand on her chest. "Sorry about the noise. The window got jammed."

**"I didn't hear. Did you fix it?"**

_Bad small talk, I know._

It came out his lips quick and breathy, like he was in a dream. He dug in his pocket for a lighter and found nothing. Patting around his jeans, he looked to her as if he wasn't being completely spazzy. Without answering his question, she pulled out a box of matches from her hoodie pocket and struck one. Descending the few steps between them, she gingerly cupped her hand over the flame, bringing it right up to his face to light the cigarette hanging in his lips. She still wasn't wearing shoes. She leaned in close. His heart skipped. Firelight suited her as well.

"No, I think it'll be like that forever."

She whispered, flicking her wrist and extinguishing the flame. She leaned away at the same time, bringing her joint back to her lips. And just like that, Elliot's moment of magic was over. He found himself wanting to count all her eyelashes, make new constellations from the freckles on her cheeks. He stared at her septum piercing, and her ears full of metal. It looked good on her. He wondered if she had anything else he couldn't see. He felt his cheeks get hot at the idea of it, and he watched her as she hauled drag after drag.

_Damn, she's relaxed._

He knew her confidence was either fabricated or unintentional. He had seen her personal writing. There was something deep in there that she didn't like. Worming inside her mind like a separate entity. He knew what that was like. He watched her hands, and couldn't help when his gaze lingered on her neck, imagining how soft it would feel under his mouth. The swell of her chest, seemed… ample. God, he felt like such a pervert. Still he looked at her exposed midriff, his gut tightening. Her jeans were worn and left little to the imagination. Elliot briefly thinks they're probably some sort of spandex mix of something, and usually that would make him roll his eyes, but from where he was standing a step below her, leaning back while she looked over the rail… he wasn't complaining.

Suddenly, he looked back up and saw her eyes on him already. His face got even hotter.

"What's your name?"

She didn't allude to the fact that she caught him checking her out.

**"Elliot Alderson."**

He answered automatically. She seemed pleased with the sound of it. A fox-like smile curved on her lips, and she repeated his name to see how it would sound in her voice. "Elliot…"

It sounded like a hymn, soft and sweet and perfect coming from her mouth. He swallowed hard before she piped up with something else.

"I like that. I used to watch a show about a moose named Elliot."

_I'm gonna choose to take that as a compliment._

**"What's your name?"**

He already knew her name, but he had to ask. As much as he would like to tell her that he knows everything there is to know about her and he's seen every bit of it and wants to interact with her on her terms now, he can't say any of that. So instead he asks her name. 

"______ ______."

No, he was glad he asked her. He liked the way it sounded when she said it too.

**"I've never seen a cartoon with a character named _______."**

_Stupid thing to say._

She giggled, and passed him the joint. He stared at it for a few moments. He wanted to take it, but for some reason the idea of taking it from her and putting his lips where hers were was a little overwhelming. He realized that was ridiculous and gently took it from her fingers, his hand brushing hers in a manner that wasn't intimate but felt electric. As he toked it, he realized her chapstick was smudged on it. Underneath the weed he could smell the mint of it and taste the sweetness, feel the slick. His head immediately felt fuzzy, and it wasn't from the pot. Still he took another drag, and passed it back to her, continuing his cigarette from before. She sat down, and he quickly followed, sticking his legs through the bars as she crossed hers. Her hand was sitting delicately on the grate, and he unconsciously put his close to hers. Not quite close enough to touch. Maybe she would notice it. He silently hoped she wouldn't.

**"You just moved in?"**

He had told himself he wasn't going to say something like that. Dammit.

"Yep. Came here all the way from _______."

He already knew that.

**"That's cool. If you need any help with anything, I live just below you."**

Was that a creepy thing to say? He wasn't sure. She turned to him and smiled warmly, looking into his eyes and then down at their hands. He squirmed, but refused to let himself move his hand. His finger twitched.

"I know," She laughed, and her warm silky fingers came in contact with his cold dry knuckles. She was touching him, but it didn't feel real anyway. She felt too good, the palms of her hands incasing his one, fingernails gently dragging, sending shivers up his spine and heat to his groin. Fuck. "Thanks."

Struggling for words in the moment, he stuttered a little as she released his hand and put out her joint, shoving the roach into her pocket.

"I'll see you later, Elliot. Goodnight."

Standing, she opened her window and crawled back inside. He sat there for a minute, before getting up.

**"Yeah. See you later."**

He called after her as she left, before she could close the window. He saw her smile in the dim light of her cluttered apartment, and watched as she walked out of the room into what he assumed was the bathroom. She should really put her curtains up.

 

Elliot found himself an hour later in his bed, shirt pushed up to his chin, sheets kicked off the bed, lights off, pants undone. His hand worked loosely over his arousal. He found that after meeting with ______, he couldn't think of anything else, resulting in his persistent erection. Squeezing his eyes shut, he pictured her laying beside him in panties and one of his shirts. He imagined one of her bare legs swung over his clothed ones, her breasts pushed into his side as her smaller hand stroked him teasingly. He imagined his arm around her shoulders, fingers tangled in her hair as she kissed his neck softly, her other hand snaked around his head, nails scratching his scalp causing him to moan and whine. It was vivid, and real feeling. Maybe she was just a figment of his imagination, if he could conjure the feeling of what her pleasuring him might feel like. He heard what her sighing sounded like, and it just made him harder.

**"_____..."**

He groaned it like a prayer. He felt himself becoming desperate for release, bucking his hips into his own hand as tears came to his eyes briefly. It was all too much. He felt too much. Her hands, her lips, her tongue, her skin and breath… Elliot let out a yelp and a string of moans as he came, covering his chest in his own shame. He felt guilty, obviously, once the phantom of her was gone and he was alone with his hand on his softening cock. He didn't know why he chose to dress her in his fantasy when he had peeked at her… glamour shots. Something about it made it feel more personal, the feel of her underneath the fabric of the dress shirts he hated wearing so much to work. Somehow he thought he would like them more if they smelled like her.


	2. Sweetness

The next day he was stepping quickly down the stairs, hood up, backpack on, when he saw her going out the front door. He stopped for a dead in his tracks, waiting.

_I don't want her to think I'm following her._

The truth was that she wouldn't likely think that even if he exited the building right behind her. He knew that somehow he was just trying to restrain himself from acting like he felt. And he felt like being close to her.

It was unlike him, and he had minimal will to fight it. Maybe it was because he didn't see anything in her that he would classify as demonizing, and yet, somehow, he felt like he understood her on a level he wasn't used to. She was alone, just like he was, and she was coping with it so much better. Or at least, that's what it looked like on the outside. He wanted to know about the storm under her skin.

He waited until she must have been a few feet away from the door, when he opened it himself, stepping out into the air. She was sitting on the stoop. Smoking. That familiar panic from last night on the fire escape rose in his gut.

_I want to talk to her. But I can't, I have to go to work. Can it wait..? No. Besides, I don't want her to get sick of me. It's not even as if she likes me, she's just nice. A nice girl. I'd be an idiot if I thought that she could be with me. She's smart, knows what's good for her. I'm not good for anyone. She might be fucked up but at least she can take care of herself. I know she's not afraid to leave people, she removes friends from her Facebook all the time. Left her last partner to move here. She has no problem moving on._

Once again, he didn't notice she had already been looking at him.

"Hi Elliot." She smiled lazily, _Looking a little out of it_. Like she hadn't slept, really. He decided not to comment. "Headed out somewhere?" She took a drag of her cheap smoke, and scooted over to make room for him to pass. He stepped down past her then turned around to face her again. He glanced down the sidewalk both ways, hoping he didn't look as paranoid as he always felt. Turning his attention back to her, he cleared his throat. She was wearing a tank top and sweats with her sneakers. Although her hair fell around her chest, Elliot could see she wasn't wearing a bra. He remembered what he did to himself last night in that moment and shuddered, looking down at his feet, anywhere but at her. Anything to hide the shame he was sure was plastered on his face.

**"Work. Cyber security."**

He wasn't certain if it was rude that he didn't wait for her to ask where he worked, but he figured she would so he just said it. She nodded her head and a curious look crossed her face, but at the same time she leaned back on the step and said, "Better get to it then. Have a good day." He nodded at her shakily and felt a smile tug the corner of his mouth. Still, he turned away and began his walk to the subway. He tried to smell her nicotine until he simply was too far away. Fighting to remember the expression on her face when she had noticed him, he hurried across the street and down the stairs to the subway, a little more light-hearted than usual. Not even the homeless man on the train spouting nonsense bothered him that morning. He hoped he would see her later.

As luck would have it, he did.

After an uneventful day, he managed to dodge Angela as she tried to hone in on him on his way out. He knew she wanted to ask him to go for dinner or something with her friends, and he just wasn't in the mood. He never really was. He liked Angela, but sometimes she was too much. As he was jogging up the stairs, he heard the door on the level above him open. He paused briefly, but still put his key in the door. He didn't turn it, just standing there.

He looked up and saw her leaning over the railing.

"Hey there stranger!" She chirped, and he blinked at her. She came padding down the stairs, looking more put together than before. She had a black top with sleeves that covered most of her hands but cut off just below her chest, showing a sliver of skin between it and the matching seamless shorts she had on. Additionally she adorned really long socks. Socks that covered most of her legs. Seemed completely non-functional but kinda...

_Kinky._

He thought. Along with the way her hair was thrown up in a perfectly messy up-do, it was kinda unreal.

_No one dresses like this in real life. She looks like some sort of sexy future spy._

He wasn't about to convince himself she was looking like this because of him. Maybe she really did just… wear this sometimes.

**"Hey ______."**

He used her name as an excuse to say it out loud. He also read somewhere that saying someone's name a lot makes them more inclined to like you. She seemed a bit nervous, as well as unusually excited to see him. He turned to her, his key still in his door as she shifted uncomfortably from side to side. "Um, so, I was wondering.." She rubbed her cheek, eyebrows arched and eyes on the floor. She peered up at him through her long lashes and he melted.

 **"What is it?"** He pressed, wanting to help. He said he would help with anything she needed. He had meant it. He gave her a little time to do what seemed like coming up with how to word whatever she was trying to say. He understood how it was, so he remained patient. All the while he could hear his blood in his ears, pumping so loudly he was almost sure she would be able to hear it if she didn't say anything. As if on cue, she did.

"I was wondering if I could come over to… hang out? It's just, I don't really know anyone here and it's… a little lonely, you know?"

_Trust me, I know._

He wouldn't have believed she said it if he hadn't watched the words come out of her mouth, the movement of her lips matching them sound for sound. At first he didn't really know what to say. How do you hang out with someone that you don't know? He had a few movies, but he wasn't sure she would like them. Would she want to talk about his personal life? How do you explain to a girl that you have depression and anxiety, are off your meds and on morphine, and speak to a friend in your mind who doesn't even respond. She looked like she was steadily becoming embarrassed, but he was still thinking so hard that he didn't notice.

_What would you do in a situation like this?_

She interrupted his thoughts. "I can bring some weed if you want, we could just veg out."

**"Yes."**

He answered quickly. Not because of the offer for drugs, but because he didn't want her to think he wasn't interested. Her smile picked right back up again. "Awesome! Alright, I'll just grab some things and come back, okay?" He nodded at her, and only allowed himself to look at her ass for a few seconds as she hurried back up the stairs. Quickly turning the key in his door, he opened it and flew inside, snatching up old clothes from the ground and turning his computer off. He hid his pills into his drawer, along with his razor blade and empty bottles. He frantically shoved the tissues he used last night in the trash can, and stood in the middle of his apartment feeling like bees were buzzing around inside him. His stomach was doing flips and he was drawing a blank on how to get ready for someone coming over. Before he knew it, he heard her timid knocking.

He strode to the door, deciding that thinking about it wouldn't help at all. He opened it and there she stood, holding a joint in either hand, her purse slung over her shoulder.

"Special delivery!"

He smiled, and stepped aside so she could come in. She B-lined right for the couch and made herself at home, sparking her lighter. He walked over and sat down next to her, taking the other joint when she handed it to him. "I'm assuming we can smoke in here?" She gestured to the ash tray. **"Yeah."** He answered, sitting down beside her after cracking a window just in case. He was close, but not close enough to touch. After grabbing the ash tray from the table, she promptly changed that, shifting just enough so that her knee lay on his thigh, and their arms met above the elbow. He felt the heat radiating from her skin, and he barely registered that he hadn't flinched. She lit her joint, then his. Fuck, he didn't usually smoke this much weed. They were big joints. Inhaling, he peered at her from his peripherals.

**"So… what do you do?"**

_I have to ask these questions. If I don't I might let slip that I know something she hasn't told me._

The weed wasn't doing anything to loosen him up yet. His arm was still stiff on his leg, scared to even relax the muscles. She giggled melodically, and he leaned into her so lightly he was hopeful she wouldn't notice. If she did, she didn't say anything about it, once again. Either very oblivious or very forgiving. "Nothing yet. I just moved here, remember? Figure I'll get a part time and spend the rest looking for acting jobs…" She seemed distant talking about it, like she was stressed about it and didn't want to go into detail. Elliot knew the feeling. So he didn't press any further.

She stood up, stepping quietly over to his shelf. Taking a big puff, he watched her a little shamelessly. Her hips swayed gently as she walked. Her thighs looked like they'd feel good wrapped around his hips. Blushing, he cleared his throat. **"See any movies you might want to watch..?"** She looked over her shoulder, grinning. "I was thinking we could put on some music." She pulled out a CD from her bag that he didn't quite see the cover of, and strutted over to the player.

_She listens to a lot of things. I probably won't know it either way._

His eyes never left her, and the further she walked from him the colder he seemed to feel. He wanted her nearer. As the music started playing, he relaxed into the couch, watching her take a drag and spin on the spot, putting her hands on her legs and swaying to the slow drawling tune that blared. A deep humming rumbled through his body, the audio ethereal and soothing in a bizarre way. He rubbed the sweat from his palms off on his knees. She glanced at him, a sparkle in her eye, and held her tempting hand out.

"Dance with me?"

It wasn't exactly a song that one would normally dance to, but he stood up anyway, hesitating before giving her his palm. Her fingers laced with his delicately, and a quiet sigh erupted from his lips involuntarily. He gritted his teeth, but she said nothing about it, her expression solidified into a subtle smile.

'Boys working on empty

Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat?

I just think about my baby

I'm so full of love I could barely eat'

Pulling him to her, he felt her ring-clad fingers intertwine behind the nape of his neck, her arms cradling his shoulders as she rested her head near his ear, where he could hear her breathing. Shaken by this contact, Elliot's hands hovered trembling over her waist, and he fought with all his might not to reject this form of intimacy, no matter how hard it was for him to be secure in what he was doing. He found his resolve and planted one hand on the small of her waist, and the other on her opposite shoulder, making the embrace tighter than he had anticipated.

'There's nothing sweeter than my baby

I'd never want once from the cherry tree

Cus my baby's sweet as can be

She gives me toothaches just from kissing me'

He squeezed his eyes shut and focused on her breath, slow and long like she had nothing to worry about in the world, swaying with him carelessly to this alien tune that he couldn't help but relate to. He felt her take a hit from her joint that she still held, and he felt his fingers flex against her body, his temperature rising slowly. His jaw clenched and he battled the crude thoughts that came to his mind when he felt her chest, snugly squished against his own. Elliot could never figure out what people wanted. She could be flirting with him, just want a friend, or maybe she craved human interaction in the same complex backwards manner that he did. Maybe she was just high.

'When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her.'

He pulled away just enough that he could see her face, blissed out and adorable. She tilted her head up towards him, the most genuine smile he'd ever seen another person give him was stuck on her face, and suddenly he couldn't hear the music anymore. There was only her. Watching the smoke leave her lips, he found himself staring. She found him too.

"See something you like?" She teased in a voice barely above a whisper. It gave him goosebumps on his arms and the back of his neck. Swallowing thickly, he replied.

**"Yeah."**

"And what's that, then?"

Without another word he kissed her. It felt like relief. Like seeing again after being blind. Her lips were so giving, and minty like the chapstick she wore, and musky from the marijuana. His tongue smoothed along the seam of her smile, hand travelling up to grasp her head and pull her in. She seemed reluctant at first, but Elliot discovered he had no desire to stop kissing her, so he thought he would keep going until she kissed back or told him to stop. Thankfully, she did the former. 

Her teeth caught his lower lip and he let out a positively filthy noise. It felt unbelievable, he couldn't be sure it was real. If it wasn't, though, he wouldn't care much either. All he knew is she tasted vaguely sweet and he wanted more, much more. His other hand drew her waist in, tightening his arm around her frame like a constrictor, kissing her like he needed it to live, like he could spend the rest of his life doing it. She was making these quiet little noises, gripping onto him for dear life. He thought it was the cutest thing. The way her small hands felt on his neck and chest, clutching and clawing in desperation. Elliot thought that it was impossible for him to do such beautiful things to her. Make her squirm like this with just a kiss. But there she was, in his hands. Squirming.

After a moment she pulled away, still hanging on, and took another toke from her joint. He stared into her eyes, dazed and feeling a tightness in his gut. His hands idly clutched at her waist and the nape of her neck, smoothing over her exposed skin.

_Is this wrong? Am I going insane? If there's something wrong with this, tell me now so I don't get my hopes up. She's too good to be true, and I know that, but just this once, can't I have something that helps? Someone who fucking gets it._

"I'll be honest, I didn't see that coming."

She was breathy, and smiley, and he leaned back in a little closer, inhaling the smoke that she expelled. **"Are you upset?"** He had to ask, had to make sure. There was a chance she could be concealing discomfort, and she was an actress after all. But the way her hand slipped over the juncture of his shoulder, he didn't feel the need to doubt her answer very much. "No. I liked it." She smiled at him, and he smiled right back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!  
> Dirtier things coming soon. :)


	3. Real People

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter!  
> Aren't you blessed?

Elliot didn't have to work the next day. And he was more thankful for that than he thought he'd ever been in his life when he woke up in the morning with the weight of her head snugly against collarbone, the bridge of her nose pushed up to the curve of his neck. She had a pillow wedged underneath her so she didn't lay at a weird angle or crush his arm, which was supporting her. His blurry eyes rested upon her thigh, now sockless, draped over his. He was wearing sweatpants. And a t-shirt.

_When did that happen?_

His confusion was comfortable, and that was foreign to him. Eyes travelling up to her hip, he could tell she was still asleep from her steady breathing. She was wearing her clothes from the night before. He was relieved to be able to assume that he didn't fuck her last night, as blunt as it sounded. It's not like he didn't want to. He would just want it to be something he remembered. Shifting, he tried his best to turn on his side without disturbing her, using his free hand to keep her pillow in place, moving so carefully he thought he must have looked like some sort of fool if anyone were to walk in. Now he could see her face, eyelashes casting shadows on her cheekbones, lips parted as she huffed quietly through them, mesmerizing him.

_I kissed her._

The train of thought crashed through his morning haze, and he sure felt awake now.

_That happened. It definitely did, she tastes like mint, and likes to bite._

It came back to him slowly, as he watched her sleeping face, the urge to place his lips on hers rising up like an unexpected rainstorm, ready to hail all it had on his restraint. He recalled to himself how she had laughed with him, and he had tried to commit the sound of her joy to memory, he wanted to listen to it whenever he wanted. Elliot didn't remember what he had talked about with her. Perhaps they had said nothing at all. Either way, he knew it didn't take long for her to start yawning and stretching, and eventually making her way over to his bed. Elliot closed his eyes, forcing his brain to replay the images of the way she sat on the edge, pulling off her stupidly long socks, saying with her sweet _____ eyes that he was expected to join her. Something about the way her expression had called to him, something about it all felt very non-committed. He knew right then that she just wanted to be close. He had also known that she didn't expect anything from him. Elliot had no fucking clue how she could tell him all these things without words. He just knew that it felt undeniably refreshing to not have to worry. About her, about himself, about anything around him. He hadn't worried about hacking her, or what would happen the next day, or that she technically barely knew him, while he was on the inside and she didn't even know. They didn't kiss again that night, but he was fine with that. The first one had taken a lot out of him, in reality. As much as he had known in the back of his mind that he wanted it, it was like a fireworks show in that moment. Beautiful, though it left him with his heart thumping and his ears nearly ringing.

_I wonder if she'll be embarrassed when she wakes up. Or maybe she'll be awkward. Who knows, I can tell from her messages on old dating sites that she's not partial to dates with strangers. Always talks to people first. Was this even a date? Does she feel like she knows me well enough to sleep in my bed? Or maybe she just really doesn't want to be alone. I don't think I would mind if that were the case. If she doesn't mean anything by it._

His thoughts were interrupted by her stirring, leg straddling dangerously close to his crotch, thinly veiled in his boxers and sweats.

_Shit._

He was hard. Biting his lower lip, he glanced hurriedly at his arm, still beneath her pillow. If he was honest with himself, he didn't really see a way out of this one. Feeling his muscles tense, he meekly attempted relocating her leg whilst removing himself from her clutches, but he knew she would wake up, his only hope being she didn't see his erection and flip out. That would be the worst case scenario. He considered trying to get up quickly, but he didn't want to shove or push her awake, and the hand that he had on her thigh just above her knee…

_Her skin is so soft…_

Shivering visibly, his mind was preoccupied with gripping the plush surface of her, feeling tentatively. He didn't really notice her waking up. Eyes sliding open, she raised a finger to rub the corners of her tear ducts. Elliot froze. _Dammit,_ he thought, as her eyebrow quirked inquisitively in the direction of his hand, which hadn't moved. _Dammit,_ he thought as she raised her gaze to his face, sitting up just a little bit in the morning sunshine. _Dammit,_ he thought. _She looks good in this light too._

"Good morning, beautiful."

Saying nothing, he released a breath he didn't know he was holding. Thank God. Best case scenario.

He allowed himself to stare at her, taking in the view of her in her little spy outfit, arms reaching out above her to stretch, _____ hair even messier than before, makeup smudged in a serendipitously artistic manner. Elliot couldn't be asked to give a shit if he was idolizing her or not. He just loved looking at her. She was just a human, like all the others he had gotten to know without their consent, and he cared a lot about what she thought of him. He noticed she was staring back into his eyes, and he became alarmed when her gaze darted, almost too quickly for him to see, down. He felt uncomfortable urgency to hide, to get away from whatever her reaction was about to be. He started to get up, but was stopped by a tender grasp on his forearm.

His gaze found hers and she was doing it again. Speaking with her eyes. If his translation was correct, she knew what was happening. And wanted it to happen. Elliot felt his mind whirring but didn't hear a single word of it. Sliding back down onto the bed, he sat up against the headboard, and she scooted up as well, placing her hands on either of his shoulders. He grabbed at her hips, not thinking, not considering the outcome, and pulled her into his lap, causing her to squeak in a way he wanted to hear a million times over.

**"Is this okay? Can I touch you like this?"**

He growled more than asked this into the crook of her neck, hands not leaving her, heart rate picking up speed again. It was a thrill he was afraid he was becoming addicted to. He listened to her sigh out a quiet "Yes", her nails pulling the fabric of his shirt against the skin of his back. She smelled of something floral and something sugary, with a hint of cigarette smoke and weed. It was intoxicating. His hands were sliding up her waist, and back down again, while she pulled his shirt from his body. He allowed her to remove it, and toss it to the end of the bed.

_She must be as crazy as I am._

His thoughts couldn't keep up to her movements, because now her top was off as well, and her lips were pressed firmly to the dip in his collarbone, pulling and nibbling, and her hips were grinding tightly, hotly against his groin.

**"F-fuck…"**

He whimpered it out, and felt his face burn red, but he couldn't care past that, because the push and pull of her frantic pace against his arousal was drowning, stiflingly delicious in this unrealistic debauchery of themselves. Elliot's fingers smoothed over her back, pinching and unclipping her bra clasp. She drew her face away from his neck, leaving it with a strange sensation, instead electing to look at his expression as he panted and swallowed hard like he did when he was nervous. She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his adam's apple, then on his jaw quickly, then his lips. He melded his mouth against her, teeth colliding with a soft click. He couldn't imagine anything like this. There was just no way. Her hands travelled confidently down his sides, slipping beneath the hem of his pants. She felt around his hipbones, and her slender fingers traced around the line of short hairs leading to his manhood. He kept his eyes shut, trying with all he had to focus on how she sounded, how her breasts felt in his hands, how his touches could make her hum delightedly like she was doing. He felt helpless against her. She could have him any way she wanted and he wouldn't change a thing.

Elliot slipped one of his hands away from her chest to undo the little zipper on the side of her shorts. He was thankful when she started to remove them herself, because he was almost positive he was already looking fucked-out and he was definitely sure his hands were shaking. As she leaned away, he stared brazenly at her chest, his hips rolling in small waves underneath her, pausing when she moved to tug her shorts and panties off her legs entirely. Her hands smoothed through his dark hair and she grinned sheepishly at him, pulling her lip through her teeth coyly. From where he was laying, she looked like nothing he had ever seen before. The light poured shamelessly through her hair, making her shine amongst the particles of dust. Elliot was sure she was crazy then. How could she not be? if she wasn't, he couldn't be sure she was human after all.

Her hands tugging his sweats down his legs took all his attention away from that idea, his voice catching in his throat, watching her slowly sink down to him. He felt his cock twitch, and the pre-cum sticking warm and wet to his torso. Elliot was sure he had never felt so dirty in his life, sickeningly detailed snapshots of what she might look like coming undone beneath his tongue, screaming his name like a mantra as he fucked her like he wanted to, fucked her like he meant it. This all stopped when he felt her lips, parting over his tip, slowly welcoming his length into her mouth.

**"Ahh… Please, _____"**

He had no clue why he was begging. Sounds were leaving him without his approval and he couldn't do shit to stop it, her sly little tongue licking strong circles around the slit of his cock. He whined louder than intended, one of his fists knotted tightly in the sheets, his other brushing gingerly over her head. He just wanted to touch her. Her own hands were occupied, one keeping a firm hold on his hipbone, making him feel secure oddly enough. The other was helping her cover the remainder of his stiffness, now slick and pulsing from her saliva. He couldn't contain his gasps and moans, it was damn near impossible with her ravaging him like she was. Her name escaped him a couple more times, her soothing voice vibrating through him as she groaned around him. It was getting to be too much, and his hips twitched in restraint, trying desperately to give her a warning he was about to cum, but his voice box seemed to be shot momentarily. She wasn't going to like that excuse.

He woke up to the smell of toast.

Feeling damp, Elliot shot up out of bed, no one beside him.

_Should have seen that one coming._

As he considered the vivid nature of his dream, he heard a familiar humming coming from the other room. Willing himself out of bed, he tried his hardest to shake off the sinking disappointment he felt. At least he didn't jizz his pants in his sleep. He could see her from the bedroom. She was in the outfit from last night. But her socks were off. He didn't bother wondering why he smiled at that. Somethings he remembered were true. Turning, _____ cracked a grin when she spotted him, padding over to set down what appeared to be french toast on his little table. She plopped down on one of the two chairs and looked at him with that expectant look again.

_I didn't know I had ingredients for french toast._

She answered him without hearing him.

"I woke up early so I walked to the store. Thought you might be hungry."

He was, a little bit. Elliot didn't fully recall the last time he ate real food, and discovered that he was taken aback by the cooking. Maybe this was a better way to wake up, anyway. **"You didn't have to.."** he offered, sitting down across from her, eyes cast down to the plate she already set out for him. "Yeah, I could have slept in. But I felt bad for crashing here without asking." She shouldn't, really. Noticing she didn't have a plate out for herself, he squeezed his words out. His throat was scratchy from the smoking.

**"Aren't you gonna eat?"**

"Already did. Sorry." She chuckled, and continued while he helped himself. "I've gotta go job hunting. Best get the bulk of it over with." He nodded, trying desperately not to seem as discouraged as he felt at the moment. She stood up from the table then, and walked across to the couch to retrieve her bag, then to the bed to sit and put her socks and shoes back on. He poked at his breakfast, struggling for anything to say before she left for an undisclosed amount of time. Being burnt out and turned on wasn't helping him much.

**"Thank you."**

_Could've done better than that._

Much to his dismay, his words came out quieter and breathier than he would have liked, giving away his current state of unsatisfied arousal. Or so he thought. She just grinned at him and made her way to the door.

"No problem! Let's do it again sometime."

She clicked the door shut as soon as the words left her lips. Elliot listened to her take the steps up to her apartment two at a time, unlocking her door and closing it very carefully once inside. Taking a deep breath, he glanced around his place. It felt gaunt, and dimmer with her gone. Like he had glimpsed a world he could have lived in, perhaps in another life, one in which he wasn't so hard to love. One in which things were easy, and full of her, all the time.

He stood up slowly, abandoning his food in a walk over to his CD player, where he stopped and stared at it for a long time. He was like a statue as he heard _____'s little steps, rushing about her new home, rummaging in boxes. Not long after he heard her door open and close again, and her descent down the stairs and out the front door. Steeling himself, he pressed the play button.

'I had a thought dear, however scary

about that night, the bugs and the dirt

why were you digging, what did you bury

before those hands pulled me from the earth?'

Sitting down defeated on his couch, he thought of her limbs, and her harmonic tone, and her smile when she thought he wasn't looking. Her ankles. Her hips. Her neck, her lovely lovely neck.

_If you were me, do you think you would be in this deep?_ He questioned the void. _What the hell am I meant to do, when all my thoughts are corrupted with her? It only takes a force of nature to take down the best of mankind's great structural endeavours. If I'm in a maze, she's a flood. Crashing effortlessly through. No need to find a path, because she consumes it all in the end._ He closed his eyes again, willing his ears to acknowledge the music she had left behind in her wake.

'I will not ask you where you came from

I will not ask, neither should you

honey just put your sweet lips on my lips

we should just kiss like real people do.'

Hand dragging over the spot she hadn't given him a hickey, Elliot threw his head back, his eyes zoning out on the ceiling. He let the urge to belong to her overtake him for now.


	4. Three Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elliot gets found out.

It was about five hours later when he heard her return. She was singing something unfamiliar, and Elliot couldn't help but strain himself to hear her voice as she passed his door and continued up the steps. There wasn't any way he would consider going to visit her, even if that was his first instinct. Even if she had kissed him, and blazed him, and slept in his bed, and made him breakfast which still sat relatively untouched on the table. He couldn't convince himself that she wanted to see him. She had left so abruptly in the morning, and had been gone for so long, that he was feeling like she had made a mistake and only realized it once she sobered up. Had she really meant it when she said they should 'do it again sometime'? Or was that just the polite thing to say, even if it wasn't sincere. There was an itch in the part of his brain that told him she wanted nothing to do with him. And as much as he wanted to go, and speak to her, and gauge her reaction, the itch would have to remain unscratched.

_I almost don't want to know._

The persistent loneliness that had been laying dormant gripped his chest. It felt heavy.

_Would it be so bad if I experienced her briefly and perfectly? Like she was some kind of short story. With a beginning, middle and ending that leaves you wanting more._

Elliot knew even as he thought this that it was selfish of him. He was scared. Scared of her finding out who he is and what he did. Terrified that she would peek under his mask. And that she would despise what she found. He laid flat on his back, staring at the ceiling again. He listened to her talking to her cat, and putting away dishes. She felt the same way he did. Tired, and afraid of being alone. If he had been anyone else maybe this would have been a match made in heaven. Maybe he would allow himself to pursue her. To chase away her sadness with his presence, unrelenting and vigilant. He considered how it would happen if she met someone else.

_Would she hold their hand on the fire escape? Go to their house and dance with them?_

Elliot was surprised by the foreign feeling of… jealousy. It strangled his gut in a vice grip, hot anger seeping out from all his broken edges, confusing him. She wasn't his property, he tried to tell himself. This wasn't like a schoolyard, he couldn't call dibs just because she spoke to him first. But the jealousy remained. Jealousy over a hypothetical person that he had theorized to help him understand how he felt about her. He supposed it kind of worked, in a way. He knew that if she was interested in him, and that was a big "if", it wouldn't last long. Not once she discovered that he hacked her. The truth would come out, and she would be mortified. He couldn't fault her for that. It was a violation, a window into her thoughts that he had broken, revealing the contents. She wouldn't want to be with him after that. But he also wouldn't be able to sustain any relationship with her if he didn't tell her. He was already guilty about it. There would be no way he could conceal his transgressions from her with the way they weighed on his mind.

He heard a knock. Not on the door, but over on his left side. His head turned to see her standing by his window, waving and smiling from ear to ear. She was always smiling at him.

_I don't deserve that._

Still his body sat itself up and his feet carried him to her, his hands gripping the frame to lift it. Even if the world was ending, if she knocked on the window he was certain he would drop everything and open it. "Hey Elliot, how's it going? Smoke with me?" The sound of his name in her carefree voice was electrifying, sending the pleasure centres in his brain into a frenzy. He almost didn't want anyone else to say his name ever again. It felt like it belonged to her. His eyes scanned her and her messy hair, oversized sweater and leggings. A cigarette was already lit between her fingers. If divinity had a name it was _____.

**"Okay."**

His previous anxieties forgotten, she stepped back so he could join her. Breathing in the outside air, he pushed his hood off his head and sat down on the stair. She sat next to him, her scent invading his space, scrambling his collected thoughts and curiosities. Mentally shaking it off, he put a smoke in his teeth and searched for a lighter. Just like last time, she struck a match, and set the end aflame for a blazing moment. Elliot was sure he would never tire of it. Taking a drag, he asked

**"How'd it go? Find anything?"**

He wanted desperately to ask her about last night. What he would even ask her, he wasn't sure. Maybe if she liked him? It seemed silly, of course she liked him, but did she want him? Questions that weren't fully formed buzzed around his mind, poking and prodding, demanding to be asked. Still, he settled for normalcy. It was then that he decided scaring her away was not an option.

"Yeah. I applied to a bunch of small businesses. Hopefully I'll get a call back before my savings run out." She let out a jovial three-pronged laugh, tipping her chin back and looking up at the sky, which was fading from light blue to yellow and orange. Elliot realized he wasted his whole day thinking about her and waiting for her to come back so he could do… nothing. He wouldn't have even seen her again today if she hadn't sought him out. Shifting nervously, he brought his knees together and chewed his lip a little. He glanced at her and he could swear he saw her staring at his mouth. She pulled a drag from her smoke and leaned into him unabashedly, wedging herself tightly by his side, under his arm. He gave himself permission to place his hand on her shoulder. Elliot wasn't the tallest or biggest person ever, he knew that. But she was so small it made him feel much larger than he usually did. It was a little dizzying, when he looked down at her delicate frame, all smooth curves and unintentional charm.

**"T-that's good. They'd have to be nut jobs not to hire you."**

He cursed his stutter. It was fucking stupid how lame she made him.

"I dunno, I wouldn't hire me." There was a distant lilt in her voice. Maybe most people wouldn't have noticed it, but Elliot did, and it broke his heart. **"Why not?"** He said it in almost a whisper, his arm wrapped tighter around her, and she leaned her head against him as she puffed away. Do people usually interact like this? He'd met her two days ago and already he could touch her easier than people he had known most of his life. Whenever someone touched him, it usually made his skin prickle and his stomach churn disgustedly, or it would incite a panic that came with the closeness of it all. But right now, he was very close, and all he wanted was to be even closer. She waited for a second, then took a deep breath and said, "Because I'm depressed."

_At least she's honest. More than I can say for myself._

She suddenly jerked away from him, causing him to gasp. He looked at her, searching her face in confusion. She looked…slightly appalled. His brow furrowed and he removed his hand from her body, opening his mouth to say something but finding he could just make a barely audible huff.

"What?" The word struck him like a slap. "What do you mean 'I know' ?" She used air quotes. Had he said that?

_Why would I say that?_

Panic rose, clawing its way up his spine and through his eyes. Elliot hadn't heard the words come out of his mouth, but he must have said them, considering the way she was looking at him. Concern and distaste were written all over her beautiful face, but more than anything she just looked baffled. Just as he was about to say something, he watched as she connected the dots in her brain. Eyes flashing from his, to his shoes, to the wall, to nothing in particular over the railing.

_Fuck. I have to say something, I have to tell her now before she says it herself. If she does that, it'll feel like a confrontation rather than a confession. This is happening much sooner than I expected, but I knew it would happen the second I hacked her. This kind of shit doesn't slip by girls like her._

Taking a deep breath, he accepted his defeat, and everything that came after it. He only hoped she wouldn't hate him.

**"You're _____ ______. Nineteen, single, cat-lover, you have a good relationship with your mom and Skype her every second evening, but you don't really talk to your dad. Your favorite band is Pink Floyd, your favorite color is dark red, you abandoned most of your friends and your significant other to move here. You draw really well, and you write sometimes too. Your poems aren't bad, you could probably get them published. You care a lot about things you don't have to care about. Inequity gets under your skin more than anything. You're scared of open water, and people hurting you. You also have depression. Like me."**

The silence that followed his admission was deafening. His heart pounded in his ears as he tried to read her face for any sign of anger, instability, betrayal, anything. But she was deadpan, her gaze focused on what looked to be the floor, but Elliot knew she wasn't looking at anything at all, he could practically hear the wheels turning in her head as she considered what he had said. He was sweating, and felt like running away, but he refused to let himself make this worse than it already was. If she had something to say to him he wanted to hear it, even if it would hurt him. It was ridiculous that she had the ability to hurt him. As he waited, he watched her chew lightly on her lower lip, her body seeming to relax a little as it sunk in. The fact that he had hacked her, and that all her personal information, anything she had ever said or browsed online, he had seen. She brought her burnt out cigarette to her face, and relit it.

"You know, I think that's the most you've spoken in these two days. And it was about me."

_She's right,_ He affirmed, flicking the butt of his smoke off the balcony. _Just like me to choke every time I talk to her except for when I'm telling her about her damn self._

She didn't really seem mad. He hadn't been expecting that. He thought she would flip, scream at him, tell him how wrong and creepy it was that he was cyber spying on her. Maybe even give him a slap, maybe even never speak to him again. But she didn't. Instead, she leaned back on the step, her sweater slipping off one shoulder, staring at the rapidly sinking sunset.

**"Are you upset?"**

He asked this for the second time since knowing her, weakly. She looked at him, made a very exaggerated thinking face, which fell into that breath-taking smile. He felt invincible.

"No, there's no point. I was gonna tell you all that stuff anyway."

A bit astonished, he mulled over her words again and again quickly in his mind. He had invaded so many people's lives and had always considered it to be some kind of ultimate deal breaker. But if she really had intended to tell him all these things, maybe she did like him. _Well, you know what I mean._ She put out her cigarette, and gazed at him patiently, her lips tugged slightly upwards at the corners, looking almost pleased with herself. **"Seriously? You don't care?"** She shrugged, the sweater slumping further down her arm. Elliot couldn't help that his eyes were drawn to it. She always exposed just enough skin to tease at that primal part of him, the part of him that he was currently suppressing. "I did, a little. But I get it. It's hard to talk sometimes. If I could hack people before I meet them, I probably would." He nodded slowly, processing her response. The relief he felt was hard to contain, he just wanted to fling himself onto his bed and start laughing. She stood up and he followed, turning to face her. She stayed where she was, looking up at him, inches away. **"You're the first person to understand that."** He spoke to her in a low tone, under his breath, as if there were people around he didn't want to hear. His hungry eyes flicked to her lips, then back up, then back down again. He saw her shiver, and she let out the tiniest little sigh. It went straight to his groin.

_Oh, God, fucking not again._

"Well," she punctuated her word with the weight of her forearms on his shoulders. "I'm glad that you didn't decide I wasn't worth your time." He wanted to grab her and shake her, tell her that was a stupid thing to think, that all he ever wanted to do was spend time with her, that she was the object of all his physical and emotional desires and all she had done was move in upstairs, and be herself. Instead he settled for kissing her. When he had done it before, it was like a tidal wave, if he remembered correctly. The drug-induced haze had made the two of them lusty and desperate for each other. This was different. His lips touched hers so gently at first, if he wasn't paying attention he wouldn't be sure they touched at all. She leaned in, just as soft, and pressed her whole body against him, not too hard, but snug enough that it felt like they were the only two people in the world. Elliot's hands leisurely closed around her waist, his favorite place to put them. The dip after her ribcage and before her hips was the perfect handhold, he found, and his palms and fingers fit there almost naturally. She held the back of his neck, pulling him into her undeniable gravity, of which he could not escape.

_Would not._

Her fingers grazed his cheek, the warmth of them in the peripheral of his kiss-drunk stupor. All he could focus on completely were her lips, the way they tasted, faintly of lemonade and smoke, and that always present sweet mint. And her eyes, the sun reflecting all kinds of hidden colors in the irises. Moving his face away a bit, he saw her blushing a deep pink, sun shining through her hair like in his dream. She pulled her bottom lip through her teeth. And her gaze darted down to his pants, and the erection he had completely forgotten, ironically, in the act of kissing her. Before he could say anything in his defense or let go of her waist, she smiled at him shyly and whispered,

"Do you think we should… go inside?"

He could only nod yes, and the music started playing like a stereo in the back of his skull.

'My baby never fret none

about what my hands and my body done

If the Lord don't forgive me

I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me.

When I was kissing on my baby

and she put her love down soft and sweet

In the low lamp light I was free

Heaven and Hell were words to me.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You kids ready for some smut? STAY TUNED


	5. Home with You

Everything was in vivid color. The light from the fading sun cast a rich orange around Elliot's apartment, setting the room ablaze. The window left forgotten, remaining open as the pair of them clung to each other in their mutually realized acceptance. She was the princess in the tower. Elliot was the quiet man with an uncontrollable obsession with rescuing her. He wasn't a hero, though. He was just as trapped as she was. The difference was, now they were stuck together. She was becoming part of his labyrinth, like two cities growing into one. They were building it overtop of one another, and listening to the soft gasps and mewls that poured from deep in her chest as he sucked and bit her neck, Elliot doubted either of them would ever escape. The marks he bestowed under her jaw looked like little flowers to him. Like a gift that doubled as a token of remembrance. He wouldn't let her forget this. His cold hands found their way under her sweater, blunt nails biting into her softness and pulling red lines down the expanse of her back. She moaned, and Elliot noted that she didn't mind a little roughness.

_That's good. Because neither do I._

Her fingers dragged through his hair, rings catching and pulling a little, her own nails scratching gently. Elliot nearly purred, it felt so lovely. He sought her lips out, pressing his own against them in an attempt to communicate to her without words that he wanted her to be his God. He would worship her with his body and his words, believe blindly in her benevolence, sing her praises and sacrifice everything else to belong to her. He would call her name and not expect an answer, but hope tragically for one. She smiled slightly as he worked his mouth against hers, tugging at the hem of her sweater in a silent plea for her to remove it. He couldn't bring himself to do it, he wanted her to make that first choice. Otherwise he was afraid he would later feel, in some twisted way, that he had taken advantage of her. She granted his wish, pulling the garment off in an instant. The break in contact made Elliot whine, but she was right back on him, little hands encasing his face as she pushed his swollen lips apart with hers, licking into his mouth in such a sinful way it made Elliot's jeans tighten even more. She unzipped his hoodie swiftly, pushing it hurriedly off his shoulders, and for once Elliot couldn't wait to remove it. He didn't want to be in that shell right now, under that security blanket. He only wanted to be nearer, and at the moment his normally comforting hoodie felt like just another barrier between them. The back of his knees hit the bed and he buckled, pulling her down on top of him easily. She kicked off her shoes, and he followed after her. Giggling into his mouth, her hair tickled his cheeks. She settled her weight onto him, slotting her legs between his as her arms wrapped around his shoulders. His hands found her hips, feeling the jutting bones and velvety skin.

_She's addictive._

He was barely aware of his thoughts, he couldn't put them in order and he didn't want to. He was all action right now. His knee pushed up against her sex and she sighed, her thighs tightening. Swallowing, his fingers worked on her bra clasp, unhooking the mechanism and touching the newly exposed skin there. She pulled it off, sitting up on his lap, her hips moving gently against his leg. His breath caught at the sight of her. Unable to stop, his fingers clasped around her slender waist, hoisting her up and flipping her underneath him. He silenced her squeak with a kiss, feeling her heavy intakes of breath. She was just as crazed, just as desperate for this. It made Elliot feel less insane. He hooked his thumbs into the fabric of her leggings, simply keeping them there as his teeth found her nipple, causing her to gasp loudly, her back arching off the bed. Her hands clutched his upper arms, holding him as if she needed to be anchored down. He enjoyed more than anything that she never stopped touching him, even if she was just letting him tease her. It helped him know she was real, that this wasn't another one of his vibrantly realized fantasies. Impatient, his mouth continued down her torso, his tongue dipping into her belly button as he passed it, eliciting a quiet groan from her. He stopped at her hips to bite them, sucking marks similar to the ones on her neck there. He loved her sharp bones, and he ran his cheek along the indentation there before looking at her with half-lidded eyes, feeling his temperature rise. She looked beautiful, hair thrown out around the pillow in a perfect mess. Her lips were parted, and kissed red, a deep blush painted all over her cheeks as she stared at him through her long eyelashes, eyebrows arched in anticipation. He couldn't deny her anymore. He slowly pulled down her pants and underwear, his knuckles trailing down her legs and giving her shivers. He threw them on the floor, grabbing her ankle to toss her leg over his shoulder. He didn't hesitate, licking enthusiastically into her folds. She was really wet, and as he realized that it was all because of him he felt his chest swell with pride. The noises she started making as her head fell back, he could hardly believe. She was all whines and whimpers, gasping and squirming. He held her hips down, fingers splaying out over her abdomen to keep a solid pressure, trapping her under his tongue. He wasn't exactly the most experienced lover, but she didn't seem to mind very much, judging from the way her muscles were twitching and how her fingers tugged at his hair. Elliot's deft tongue worked around her entrance and up to her clit, sucking it gently into his mouth to graze it with his teeth and tongue. Her hips bucked up against him, and he put more pressure on her in response. He felt her toes curling against the back of his shirt, her breathing becoming choppy and uneven as she moved against his mouth in her pursuit. Elliot was certain they would wake up the whole apartment complex, but he couldn't care, he loved that she was loud. Her moans raised in pitch, and he knew she was close, so he continued to increase his effort, determined to bring her to her nirvana. She came shortly after, grip becoming tight in his hair as she screamed out in her release, Elliot moaning and licking her through her orgasm.

_Tastes good…_

Without missing a beat she grabbed him by the t-shirt, pulling him back over her body to kiss him lovingly, making him melt in her hands. He pulled his shirt over his head quickly, dropping it and hauling her legs around his slender hips where she kept them, squeezing him securely. Elliot rested his face in the crook of her warm, sweet-smelling neck as he undid the button of his jeans, the zipper following. He shoved them halfway down his thighs, not bothered to remove them entirely. He felt her wetness against his length, slick and tempting, and he raised his eyes to look into hers. She blinked at him.

**"Do you want me…?"**

He always had to ask, even if he knew the answer. She smiled at him, placing soft kisses around his mouth and jaw. "Yes please." She responded in a breathy voice that made his head spin. Steeling himself, he grabbed his almost painfully hard cock, pressing lightly against her to test the waters. He could already tell she was gonna be tight. He shuddered, looking into her dazed eyes, hazy with pleasure and lust. He was sure he looked positively starving for her, he could definitely feel it in his gut. A need to be with her, completely and purely as possible. Pushing in steadily, _she's making a lot of noises now._ All pleads and whimpering moans, her nails clutching weakly behind his neck. Unable to do anything except let him take her. His hips worked into her, and he bit his lip to try and restrain the noise that left him. Low and gravelly, like a rolling growl that came from deep in his chest. **"Fuck"** he muttered, kissing her collarbones once he was fully inside. She felt so fragile, so tiny and delicate, he was afraid he might break her. But she was so snug, so perfect feeling inside, he wanted nothing more than to fuck her into the mattress until she begged him to stop. Instead he leaned his face in close to hers, lips inches apart as he began to thrust into her, drawing delicious sounds from her. One of his hands tangled in her hair, the other holding her down. Elliot thought he could live in this moment forever. This moment of her absolute surrender to him, sharing breath, and heat. He stayed impossibly close to her, chests pressed together as the sound of their love-making filled the room. He held her tightly as her eyelashes fluttered closed, and she scratched angry lines into his pale skin when he picked up speed.

**"Say my name."**

He whispered this, but was still surprised by the demand in his voice, thick and needy for her. She sighed sweetly, kissing him. "Elliot…" She practically sang, clear and crystalline just for him. It was almost like she knew how much he loved hearing her say it. Like she knew that even though he was the one fucking into her at a now punishing pace, she had all the power. She controlled it all, as far as he was concerned. If she said jump, he'd ask how high. He doubted there was anything he wouldn't do for her at this point.

**"Ah.. Yes, ____. Please…"**

There was that begging again. He realized what he was asking for.

She lifted her hips to meet his thrusts, allowing him to push even deeper into her. He moaned loudly into her neck, and she said his name again, bringing him closer. He wouldn't last long at this rate. Elliot was vaguely aware of a concerned feeling in the back of his mind. A feeling that told him that it was wrong of him to do this. That it was sick, and she was above it all. He was making her dirty, dragging her down from her heavenly perch to sin with the devil. For some reason it turned him on more. He registered that he was getting close, and his fingers slipped between them to find her clit, rubbing it in quick circles. She squealed, and he brought his lips back to hers, swallowing up her cries as his hips snapped against her tightly.

Just then he felt her clench, her eyes screwing shut and his name coming from her in quick gasps. He came right away. He wouldn't have been able to hold it any longer if he wanted to. Breathing hard, he pushed himself off of her, sitting up to look at her face. She was smiling, like always, and pulling her hair up into a high bun. He smiled back at her. Amazed by the sight of her slight glow and flush, his eyes scanned her naked body before he located his t-shirt and handed it to her. She gratefully slipped it on, standing up and walking to the bathroom. He watched her go, pulling his boxers back up and kicking his pants off. He sat on the bed in disbelief. Never had he imagined that this would happen, especially this soon. Especially after his confession. Usually a cyber-stalker would turn a girl off, he figured. But here she was, the person he had put so high up above him. Exiting the bathroom and pulling her discarded panties back on. Laughing, she flopped back down onto the bed, holding her arms out wide for him in a silent invitation. Warmth bloomed near Elliot's heart, spreading throughout his body pleasantly. He didn't think he had ever felt this good.

He laid down, placing his head against her chest as her arms encircled him protectively. It must have looked a little silly, he thought. He was bigger than her, but he felt secure and safe curled against her body. He started to think of what would happen when she left. She would have to go back to her place eventually, she couldn't live here with him. A pang of loneliness struck him.

_How does she do it? She seems so happy all the time, but I know that's not the truth._

He shifted to look at her face, slinging one arm over her torso. She had her eyes closed, and her face was relaxed. She looked serene, but almost sad. He gathered his strength to speak. It would be hard, considering he could barely think.

 **"How do you deal with it?"** He asked quietly, studying her expression as she opened her _____ eyes to pierce him with them. He always felt like she was looking right through him. **"The sadness."** He clarified, searching her face for any sign of discomfort. He didn't want to impose. She stay silent for a moment, deep in thought. Elliot didn't have to wait long for his answer, though, because she spoke her next words clearly and confidently. He wished he could have the answers like she did.

"Maybe this is a little bleak, but the way I see it, it's just something I have to learn to accept." He nodded slowly, considering her. "My illness is a part of me, but it doesn't make me who I am. I can choose to let it become me, or I can choose to acknowledge that my life does not revolve around my sadness. It's a constant struggle, but there are moments that make the fight worth it." She turned her head, pressing her lips and nose against his hair. He felt her breath in his scent, and his grip on her tightened. "… Like this one." He pushed his face into her chest, thankful for her response. He wasn't sure if he would be able to apply that logic to himself, but he appreciated her words nonetheless. They made him feel a bit better, even if it was temporary.

**"You're right."**

He supplied quietly into her cotton-clad breasts, muffled.

"I am, aren't I?"

She laughed, as Elliot fell asleep. It was music to his ears.


End file.
